


Tourist

by Adventures_in_Writing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: French-speaking Tucker, M/M, Mentions of some of the other Freelancers, Tuckington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adventures_in_Writing/pseuds/Adventures_in_Writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash looked up in a panic as a man approached him speaking in French.<br/>"Uh…I don’t…I can’t…um…"</p>
<p>“Holà! Calme-toi, mec…”</p>
<p>"Sorry. I don’t understand…" Wash peered at the dark-skinned man, trying in vain to comprehend what he was saying.</p>
<p>The man offered a charming smile.<br/>”C’est tout bon.” The stranger paused for a second. “So, you’re a tourist then?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourist

**Author's Note:**

> Received this prompt over on my Tumblr: Tuckington AU where wash is a tourist in France who meets tucker, who won't stop telling him french pick up lines (because French is the language of romance)
> 
> Super big thank you to kalmoony (on Tumblr) for helping me with the French phrases :) Seriously, cannot thank you enough!
> 
> Tuckington! (Well…the start of something beautiful. Bonus French-speaking!Tucker)

Washington looked helplessly at the horribly drawn map in his hands before glancing at the surrounding buildings.  
  
Why the hell had he expected York to be able to draw an accurate map was beyond him. He should have asked Carolina.  
  
The pair were supposed to be meeting up for the week in Paris with a few other work mates before flying over to London for a work conference. They’d all taken a few days leave to enjoy the Parisian sights. Wash had been surprised that York had suggested Paris and not somewhere more suitable to his tastes. Such as Amsterdam.  
  
He grumbled in frustration as he looked over the map once more. Wash thought that maybe the big hotel on his left was the tiny square that said ‘motel’ on the paper.  
  
” _Euh,_ _excuse-moi? Ça va?_ ”  
  
Wash looked up in a panic as a man approached him speaking in French.  
"Uh…I don’t…I can’t…um…"  
  
“ _Holà! C_ _alme-toi, mec…_ ”  
  
"Sorry. I don’t understand…" Wash peered at the dark-skinned man, trying in vain to comprehend what he was saying. His track record so far with French people that could speak English to him wasn’t that great.  
  
The man offered a charming smile.  
” _C’est tout bon._ ” The stranger paused for a second. “So, you’re a tourist then?”   
  
Wash nodded thanking his lucky stars that someone who could speak English had found him. “I’m visiting for a week, but I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. I’m meant to be meeting up with some friends of mine.”  
  
"Where are you heading? I’m Tucker, by the way."   
  
"David, but most people call me Wash or Washington. I’m looking for the Moulin Rouge…"  
  
” _David,_ " Tucker said in French, testing out the name. " _Washington_ … Yeah, dude, gonna stick to your name in English, I think. So, here for a week, _hein_? Could you get any more touristy? _Moulin Rouge,_ " He snickered, "If you want some action you don’t wanna go there; it’s all for show."  
  
"It wasn’t my suggestion. I think we’re only meeting there anyway. It’s apparently a fairly easy place to find…if you’re not lost and have a decent map."  
  
Tucker shrugged.   
"It’s not too far from here,  actually. You just strayed from the main roads, that’s all. I’ll show you the way. _Suis-moi!_ ”  
  
The two began walking down the alley when Tucker suddenly had an idea.  
  
"You’re in the city of love for a week. Oh, man, I totally need to tell you some pickup lines to use on the ladies! French is _le langage de l’amour_. Chicks dig that stuff. Everything sounds better in French.”  
  
Wash just looked at Tucker.  
  
"Dude, I’ve been here for a few years, trust me.”  
  
“You’re not French?”  
  
“Nah. I moved over here to look after my kid, but I don’t wanna bore you with the details of my life right now when we have more important things to discuss. Like picking up ladies! Just…don’t really try it on French girls unless you’ve got the accent right.” He paused for a second. “Or dudes. I wouldn’t recommend trying them on French dudes either.”  
  
Wash chuckled. “Pick up lines aren’t really my thing…and I can’t speak French.”  
  
Tucker cleared his throat, ignoring Wash’s lame protest.  
  
“You’ll be fine. Repeat after me. _Tu n’as pas eu mal quand tu es tombé du ciel?_ ”  
  
Tucker said the sentence a second time, slowly, making sure that Washington could catch the words.  
  
“Too naz pass ew mall qwand too ez tombeh doo see-el?” Wash felt ridiculous trying to copy the phrase Tucker had said. The foreign words were difficult to say and the sounds were hard to make.  
  
“Well, that wasn’t so awful for a beginner…” Tucker said encouragingly. “ _Tu n’as pas eu mal quand tu es tombé du ciel_? Hmm, maybe I should give you something easier.”  
  
“What does it even mean?” Wash asked. When he said it, it sounded god-awful. In Tucker’s surprisingly light voice, the words seemed to drip like honey. He wondered what it would be like to hear Tucker use one for real.  
  
“”You didn’t get hurt when you fell from heaven?””  
  
 Wash laughed, shaking off his previous thoughts.   
“Seriously?”  
  
Tucker nodded.   
“I never said they’d translate into English well.”  
  
“I definitely should tell my friend, York, about these. He loves cheesy stuff like that.”   
  
Wash could just picture it now. He’d mention a couple to York and he would try his luck learning French pickup lines. York would never pluck up the courage to actually use them on Carolina, but it was amusing knowing that York would try learning them anyway.   
  
Tucker grinned widely.   
“I’ve got a whole arsenal of them. How about _s_ _i je te disais que tu as un beau corps, est-ce que tu le retiendrais contre moi_? That one means: If I told you that you have a beautiful body would you hold it against me?”   
  
Wash said around four words before he gave up.  
  
“Too difficult?”  
  
“I think so. Though I have heard that one used in English before.”  
  
"It’s a classic,” Tucker said with a nod. “Oh! How about _puis-je t’appeler biscotte? Non? Parce que je te trouve craquante_.”  
  
“Biscotti?” Wash asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just call someone a delicious baked treat?”  
  
Tucker shrugged. “’Can I call you biscotti? Because I find you irresistible’… Okay, maybe that one doesn’t translate so well. How ‘s this then? T _u dois être fatiguée parce que tu as trotté dans_ —  _Ah, on y est! Le Moulin Rouge._ ”  
  
Wash had no idea what any of the things Tucker said meant, but he did understand _Moulin Rouge_. It wasn’t quite dark yet, so the red lights of the sign and the windmill weren’t too bright. He wondered how on Earth he could have missed the red windmill on the roof. He supposed it had something to do with York’s awful map drawing skills and the fact that Wash had made a few wrong turns when he had set out earlier that afternoon. From where Tucker and he were standing, Wash could see York chatting with the twins. The others hadn’t arrived yet.   
  
Strangely enough, Wash wasn’t quite ready to leave Tucker. He’d been enjoying their conversation and the man seemed genuinely nice and interesting to be around. It was a little sad to know that he’d never see him again.  
  
“Well, I guess this is _adieu_ ,” Wash said with a sigh. “Thanks for helping me find my way.”  
  
Tucker smiled. “Don’t mention it. I couldn’t leave you wandering around the streets like a _petit chaton perdu_ — a little lost kitten,” he added for Wash’s sake.  
  
“Thanks again, Tucker.”  
  
“Hey, Wash, before you go…” He walked up to Washington, quite casual, a charming smile at his lips as he put his hand in his pocket. As he spoke, he took out his phone. “ _Excusez-moi, j’ai perdu mon numéro de téléphone. Puis-je emprunter la vôtre?_ ”  
  
Wash knew whatever it was that Tucker had said was probably horribly ridiculous, however, because he didn’t know what the words meant it sounded rather inviting.   
“Uh…”  
  
“It sounds kinda average in English but…I lost my phone number. Can I borrow yours?”  
  
Wash gave Tucker a look before he took the offered phone. “Did you just use a pickup line on me?”  
  
“Clearly it worked. I told you everything sounds better in French.” Tucker nodded towards the Moulin Rouge, “Call me once you’re finished up here if you’ve got no plans? Or call me tomorrow? I can show you around if you’d like. See a side of Paris that’s not on your tourist map.”  
  
“I like the sound of that. You’ll be hearing from me,” Wash looked towards the Moulin Rouge, “I’d better head off to meet up with the others. _Au revoir._ ”  
  
Tucker shook his head. “In this instance ‘ _à bientôt_ ’ - see you soon - might be better.”  
  
Wash smiled and headed off towards where his friends were waiting.  “ _À bientôt!_ ”


End file.
